Moving Through Salt Air
by Nobody Apologist
Summary: Those who are assigned to move and those who are assigned to stay should never grow attached to each other. But small towns aren't known to give too many choices. (mutual feelings that appear to be unrequited)


**A/N: future AU where, in order to have better population control, people are assigned to either move or stay.**

* * *

Living in a small town meant that everyone knew everyone. It also meant that everyone knew who would move on to bigger and better things, and who would be forced to stay behind and fulfill a role that one of the senior citizens used to hold.

It wasn't that big of an issue in cities. Only family, close friends, and the occasional authority figure knew whether you'd been assigned to move or to stay. But in a town where your high school principal was also the mailman, news traveled fast.

Vanitas stood, waiting, outside of the town's bigger convenience store for two reasons. The first being that the only reason he'd have for going in there had been nipped in the bud by Sora, who'd be gone in less than two years, when he started stealing Vanitas' cigarette packs, emptying them out, and replacing the contents with M&amp;M's. Vanitas was perfectly content with having the candies instead, since he'd only bought the cigarettes to make some kind of statement, and had already bought a new pack the day before for his brother to tamper with.

The second reason was that he was sick and tired of all the pitying looks he'd been on the receiving end of lately, which only doubled whenever Ventus was around.

Aeleus, the aforementioned principal-mailman, nodded to Vanitas on his way into the store, and Vanitas tried his best to not scowl at him in return. He caught a glimpse of his half hearted grimace reflected on the store doors, and decided that it was worthy of one of the few remaining chocolates in the crumpled pack stuffed in his jacket pocket.

"Does Sora know that you actually eat those?"

It figures that Ventus would slip out of the store when Aeleus' bulky frame blocked Vanitas' view.

Vanitas shrugged. Sora more than likely did know since Vanitas hadn't even bothered to open the last few packs before leaving them out for Sora to find.

Ventus handed Vanitas a bottle of the soda that had been advertised endlessly nearly five months ago, but that had only been in town for nearly thirty eight hours. They unscrewed the caps simultaneously before they drank nearly half a bottle each. They soon detached themselves from their respective sodas and caught their breath.

"Too sweet," Vanitas grumbled.

"Hand it over," Ventus replied.

The two of them began their march down the street; Ventus, alternating between drinking the soda and complaining about his mother being far too overbearing, and Vanitas, absentmindedly nodding along and trying not to stare at Ventus for more than five seconds. The sidewalk beneath their feet was made up of more cracks than pavement, and every so often a car would slowly travel over the slightly better paved one way street. The overcast sky was a blessing since the sun didn't bounce off any of the obnoxious coloured houses in such a way that it blinded whoever happened to be passing by. The air smelled salty, and Vanitas couldn't tell whether it was because of the wind blowing off the sea or if a fisherman had recently stomped through the area. He certainly hoped it was the former because he was in no mood to be lectured about the benefits of older fishing methods in comparison to the ones broadcasted on TV.

Ventus stopped at the garbage bin that stood meekly on the edge of where the town's small playground began, and tossed the empty bottle in. He chugged the rest of what had been Vanitas' bottle while Vanitas himself scanned the area for small children. Soon enough, Ventus had thrown away another bottle and Vanitas had confirmed that overcast days truly were a blessing. Before they could go any further, Ventus nearly tripped on an unlabeled soup can that had managed to fall out of the nearly overflowing trash bin, and Vanitas snickered for much longer than necessary.

Gravel crunched beneath their feet as Ventus jogged towards the rickety swing set and Vanitas followed at a much slower pace. Ventus swiftly claimed the swing that looked like it was the least likely to break, which left Vanitas with no choice but to take the one next to it, which looked like it would disintegrate if one so much as poked it.

"Bastard," he muttered as the swing sank with his weight.

"You'd do the same to me," Ventus retorted.

"I can't wait until you're gone so I can get that goddamn swing for once."

Ventus pushed his feet of the ground and swung slowly, back and forth. "Two weeks more of waiting, and it's all yours."

"Where the hell are you even going?" Vanitas didn't dare try to use his swing for it's original purpose.

"They haven't told me yet. Although," the swing set creaked, and Ventus slowed his movements even further, "my mom's been hinting that it might be in another country."

"One that you know the language of, I'm assuming?"

"Hopefully. If I get stuck in, I don't know, Russia, then I'm blaming you because you jinxed it."

"Nah, you're too frail to survive Russia. You might be off to France since you were stuck taking French courses every single year."

"Doubtful," Ventus huffed. "I'm far from fluent."

Vanitas tested the strength of his swing by slowly moving back and forth, but stopped when the structure let out a loud whine. "I doubt they actually consider that."

"Well, at least I know how to ask to go to the bathroom, so I should be set."

The two of them were silent for a while. A group of older men who looked like they just came from the wharves came barreling around the corner. They waved to the boys on the swings and called out unintelligible phrases in their thick accents, and received an enthusiastic wave from Ventus in return.

"I'm gonna miss it here," Ventus admitted, returning to his previous swinging as the men disappeared from sight.

"I wouldn't," Vanitas scoffed.

Ventus momentarily paused his swinging again and laughed. "Of course you wouldn't; you're the stereotypical small town bad boy who wants to spread his wings and fly somewhere where someone will truly understand his free spirit."

"Well, someone had to be."

"Would you be excited to leave, if you were me?"

Vanitas snorted. "Course I would. What kind of question is that?"

Ventus shrugged. "I didn't know questions had to have a type."

"Don't get all philosophical on me now, Ven."

They both jumped when Ventus' watch began to beep, although Vanitas would never admit to it.

"I've got five minutes to get home before I'm slaughtered," Ventus announced. He then hopped off his swing, and began to run in the direction the fishermen had come from. "Have fun with the swing," he called over his shoulder.

Vanitas stood up in order to take the better swing for himself, but he stopped himself once his hand brushed the chain. Sighing, he turned around and marched across the thick layer of gravel, back towards the trash can. He kicked the empty soup can on his way past it, and emptied the pack in his pocket on his way home.


End file.
